Asparagus
by HamPickleSandwich
Summary: One of the most important events in Rango's life and he's already late. Can also be found on my deviantArt. Oneshot.


**_So I just casually made up an OC for the first time in years. And then my brainchild grew into a little universe... so you got three biologically impossible beings right there; and a cringing author for making up characters that she knows wouldn't work, which makes her a tad hypocritical for hatin' on most OCs... I'm pretty sure Rango isn't quite in character, so apologies there.  
>Rango, Beans, Priscilla and settings belong to Gore Verbinski and etc;<br>Cactus, Bobby and Gussie are my little darlings XD_**

**_love HamPickleSandwich_**

* * *

><p>"<em>I mean, ah, I enjoy a hearty puttanesca myself; but I'm not sure that a child would appreciate the moniker."<em> –Rango

It was August and all he could think about was asparagus. There were no particular issues to be dealt with to keep his mind off the green vegetable, and perhaps the memory of pink scales and humidity – and, gosh darn it, it frustrated him!

The whole source of the problem was _names_. Sure, the little eggs hiding in the house was a large part of the issue too, but they would hatch, and then they'd have nothing to call them by. Rango grinned to himself – what a surprise it had been to realise how easy the whole _process_ had been! There hadn't really been many issues with interspecies... er, _relations, _to speak of_._ Of course, that did lead up to many sunny days sitting and waiting, sleepless cold nights doing the same, but it would be worth it in the end. All they needed to do was hatch.

But what were they to be _called?_ That was the pressing issue. Rango scratched his head, feeling slightly guilty of the suggestion that was sure to slip out of his mouth. Beans was the first real being that he really talked to – at least, the first one to make any sense – since leaving the glass box; and he remembered that conversation all too well.

"_Ah... so, what's your name?" the chameleon asked, approaching the lady tentatively. She continued to bustle around her wagon of water bottles, not looking at him._

"_Beans." she said, walking around to the other side of the vehicle. Rango looked at the bottles curiously._

"_That's a funny kind of name." he said, glad for the conversation._

"_What can I say? My daddy plum-loved baked beans." the iguana explained, tightening a rope on the side of the wagon. The bottles clinked with the movement. _

"_Well, you're lucky he didn't plum-love asparagus." he said absentmindedly, touching and looking at all he bottles he could reach, wondering what was inside each one, and then why they were empty._

"_Wha-what are you saying?" Beans popped up suddenly, an angry flare in her eyes._

"_I mean, ah, I enjoy a hearty puttanesca myself; but I'm not sure that a child would appreciate the moniker."_

Rango laughed quietly to himself, remembering that he had then proceeded to eat her father's cigar ashes (he was still guilty of going back to taste the spicy powder on very rare occasions), causing a very awkward moment between them. Though she didn't seem to have taken to him at the time; it had been from those moments onwards that he knew that he liked the woman very much. She was most definitely the princess, even if she did know exactly how to fire a shotgun.

Beans was at home on the ranch at that very moment; probably watching the clutch so intensely that she would be freezing up for minutes at a time, give or take a few seconds. Oh, how she worried over the safety of those eggs! Of the pair of them, she always stayed awake longer, stayed closer by their side, and warmed them with more ways than he himself could imagine. All he worried over was what they would become, specifically _who_ they would become.

It was perhaps just before they married that he told her why exactly he lied to anyone. He didn't have a name, or an identity. Sure, everything around him had names – he named them himself. But, until he had arrived at Dirt, he had never thought to give himself a title; a personality. He was just himself, and that was whatever story he had planned for the toys in the box. Thus, names were everything.

The only one they had agreed on so far was Cactus. Rango wasn't quite sure what the origins of the idea was – whether it was after the mysterious plants that Beans had spent her childhood staying awake at night to watch, or the bottle of cactus juice from which Rango had taken his name. Sure, it was an odd name, but when there were fellows such as Waffles and Spoons, Cactus wasn't all that weird. Beans expressed often that she was partial to Bobbie or Strawberry, but remained undecided over which one she liked best. With a flash, Rango's thoughts drew back to asparagus. He had been thinking about many names, but out of all of them, Asparagus was a standout. Should there be a girl, she could be called Gussie for short, solving the moniker problem; but then he would remember what he had said to Beans on their first meeting and regret the thought. Following that thought was the same memory of pink scales and humidity... and dinner – asparagus again. Perhaps a child named Asparagus wouldn't mind so much, considering that Gus or Gussie was also an option, Rango thought with a smile. Resolved, he stood up to leave, satisfied that a quick trip home wouldn't cause any disasters.

The sensation of a young mouse crashing into the room quickly remedied that feeling of positivity.

"Whoa, there! Slow down, little sister!" Rango laughed, crouching to steady the girl. Priscilla slouched, desperately trying to catch her breath. She shook her hands at him in wild gestures.

"...Priscilla... I don't have time to play charades. Later, ok?" he sighed after a pause. Though the young girl was his friend, sometimes she didn't seem to understand when his duty called him. Priscilla rolled her eyes and took one last gulp of air.

"I-was-with-Beans-at-your-house-and-the-things-were-moving-and-Beans-was-cryin'-an'-I-had-to-come-get-you!" she gushed, all in one breath. Rango stared, uncomprehending. Eyes wide, Priscilla pointed at the doorway.

"_Those eggs of yours are hatching_!" she shouted.

"What? Now?" he yelped.

"YES!" Priscilla screamed. There was no time to lose. Pushing past the mouse, Rango ran to his bird, jumping on its' back as fluidly as possible, urging it to ride as fast as it could go.

"_What do you think?" Beans asked, crouching by the little clutch, stroking the one closest to her tenderly. Rango leaned against the door in thought. Cactus... it was a unique name. It was tough. Definitely a boy's name, though her intended meaning behind it was soft and romantic. It reminded him of her frozen face in the pale moonlight; the moment's hesitation before he kissed her cheek softly, nervously. Slowly, as not to make too many vibrations in the ground, he walked over to sit by his wife's side. Beans gazed at him, a searching expression in her eyes. Rango smiled._

"_I think it's a wonderful name."_

He never felt so cold in his life.

Rango was terribly late for one of the most important events in his life, and there was no way that Beans would ever forgive him for it. It was the hatching of his _own children,_ for Pete's sake! Urging his ride to go faster, he reflected. He wasn't to know that they were going to hatch today, even if Beans had been telling him for days that it could happen at any moment and that he had woken up with a strange feeling of intuition and anxiousness niggling in the back of his mind. There was a creeping sensation of guilt taking over his abdominal areas, causing his legs to feel like lead.

_His legs felt like lead. His damn bird had run off when he fell; leaving him to run all the way back to the ranch before sundown. And when he finally got home, where was his ride? Standing impatiently outside as if he, Rango, the master of the bird, had taken away the beast's precious time! Feeling very disgruntled, Rango pushed open the door forcefully, banging his hat upon the hook which it hung upon at night. Beans looked up from the dinner table, a worried look forming in her eyes. _

"_Why, Sheriff! You're lookin' right ruffled tonight!" she exclaimed upon noticing the dust and mud covering the cuffs of his jeans, all the way up to the knees. Rango slouched; exhausted._

"_Ran into the bog," he sighed. "Damn bird took off when we turned down the road. Had to run to make it back before sundown." Beans frowned at her husband, before giving into his plaintive expression and giving him a sympathetic kiss to the cheek. She giggled suddenly._

"_My big baby had to get home by foot, did he?" she smiled. Rango rolled his eyes._

"_You could at least... I don't know... tell me what's for dinner or something?" he retorted, momentarily using his native accent and withdrawing himself from their embrace in order to change clothes. _

"_Asparagus and chickpeas." Beans announced, turning back to a pot on the stove._

"_That right?" Rango emerged, his preferred Southern accent returning, adorned in slacks and a fresh shirt and vest. He sat down at the table, sighing in contentment to be off his aching feet. She spooned the murky stew into his bowl, before serving herself and sitting opposite._

"_Had a visitor today. Spoons came down, said he had something from a stranger out in the desert." she started. Rango looked up from his meal._

"_And?" he prompted. Beans, squirming with excitement, gushed on with her story. _

"_And he brought me this thing that looks like a giant cactus fruit. Called it a strawberry. So I tried some – don't look at me like that, I saved most of it! Tastes like nothing I've ever tried. Rango, it's beautiful! Juicy and sweet, and... Well; I liked the name. Strawberry. What do you think?" The chameleon, who was partially absorbed in gulping down the stew as quickly as possible, slowly put his spoon down. For a moment, he sat there in thought. It would work for a boy or a girl. Come here, Strawberry. Put those down, Strawberry! Baby Berry... It was an awkward sort of name. _

"_What about Bobbie? I thought we were going to use that one?" he asked, unsure. Beans thought for a moment. It was clear that she was torn between names, despite there being three eggs in the clutch. Not wanting to pressure her; Rango moved to her side, kissing her cheek gently for comfort. Stroking her hair gently, he spoke again._

"_We'll leave that for now. Whatever you choose, I'll always love you. I vowed that, didn't I?" he smiled, feeling her face warm under his touch. _

Too anxious to grin warmly at the memory, the sheriff pressed on, wondering how much of this huge event in his life he had missed. It was worse than when he had to leave dear Beans alone in the house on the first day of their week-long honeymoon to sort out a street brawl; or worse than the fact that he had left Beans to take care of their soon-to-be children all those times he went away to answer the call of duty. Suddenly, the house revealed itself, looming above him at a speed which went too fast and too slow at the same time. Kicking off his shoes nervously, Rango burst into the house, feeling that it was much too silent in the lonely residence. He did not hear Beans call for him, nor did he call her name as he paced the floor towards the nursery room.

"Beans?" he murmured as he crouched by her side. The eggs now in view; he let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding for some time. The three eggs remained more or less intact – one remained without any blemishes, the second cracking slowly, and the third having a deep crack in the side. The nervous mother-to-be held her husband with a vice-like grip, tucking her head into his shoulder without a word. Nothing was said, but it was certainly there: he had made it in the nick of time. As if the change in the atmosphere had been noticed, the most damaged eggshell made further progress. A tiny hole appeared in the once smooth pale surface, from which emerged the tiniest of hands. The hand was a dull green in colour, and it grabbed for nothing in particular.

"This one's gonna look like its daddy." Beans mumbled with a feeble laugh. Mesmerised by the movement of the tiny appendage; Rango reached out to touch the limb. The tiny hand grabbed the closest finger, easily wrapping its own fingers around it, but certainly unable to hold any more. After a moment in which both parents stared in surprise at the hand, it disappeared again into its warm home. The hole suddenly became bigger; and cracks fell down the sides as the occupant destroyed the egg from which it had lived in for months. Beans took a towel into her hands out of anticipation for what was sure to come next.

Finally, kicking and screaming; the first born emerged into the world.

"I think he's changed his mind!" Rango exclaimed, grinning at what was apparently his son. Having never seen a hatchling before; he flinched internally at the minor grotesqueness of the shape – hunched, slimy and naked; eyes screwed tightly shut. Beans, who did not seem to notice this, moved quickly to comfort the screaming hatchling.

"I think this one is definitely fittin' of a name like Cactus." she announced, deftly cleaning him from the fluids left from his egg, and wrapping a blanket around him for warmth. Suddenly; she paused, sitting so stilly with the child in her arms that Rango contemplated waving a hand in front of her face to make sure she hadn't frozen. However, she began to swell with a deep, trembling breath.

"Oh... honey!" she whispered. When she looked up, he saw her eyes were full of emotion. The hatchling's cries had subsided from reptilian wails to soft murmurs. Cactus' face was no longer screwed up tightly in an ugly expression, but held a peaceful, drowsy demeanour. His unfocused eyes turned to gaze at him for a moment – and Rango understood. He smiled, greeting his son for the first time, acknowledging his new status as a father above all else. Rango reached out to touch the smooth skin, wondering if the other two offspring would birth the same way...

"It's not over yet." he murmured, looking back at the other two eggs. As if it had decided to take the advantage while nobody was looking, the second child had created a sizable hole in the side of its old home, scrabbling at the surface before its strength fully subsided. It was with a seemingly big effort that it managed to break free, the look of surprise on its wet face causing Rango to let out a single bark of laughter. It was clear that the hatchling was another boy; for the features on his face, once cleaned held such similarities to their first son that they could have been twins.

"Rango, take Bobbie. I can't hold both of them at once." Beans said, passing the second son; now swaddled like his brother, to him. Panicked, Rango flinched away from the child. He wasn't able to hold fragile things without breaking them – how was he supposed to hold a baby? His baby? Beans, who seemed experienced in the art of baby holding, stared incredulously for a moment.

"...You've never held a baby, have you?" she asked, deadpan. Embarrassed, Rango shook his head. Beans sighed, rolling her eyes. Rango smiled sheepishly, before awkwardly creating a cradle shape with his arms.

"So you've decided on Bobbie." he ventured, warily allowing Beans to place the child in his arms and to position his arms accordingly. She nodded vigorously, before she moved away, satisfied with the hold he had on the hatchling.

"I decided maybe that I shouldn't make tradition of naming kids after food." she laughed. He grinned, before moving his gaze to Bobbie, who had begun to sleep. Again, he acknowledged the child as a new parent, like he had done with Cactus – but it was different thing altogether. It was a new first for him, holding a baby. The precious life in his arms was like a new tether, keeping his feet firmly on the ground he walked on; keeping him safe at a level that only love would ensure. He looked up at his wife, who only smiled knowingly, before she looked at the third egg.

Seconds passed. Seconds became minutes. The minutes ticked ever closer to an hour, and yet the egg had not made a single movement. Cactus and Bobbie lay in a cot nearby, not knowing that their sibling had made no progress, but the reality was all too confronting for the new mother. Bewildered, Rango held the hysterical woman; stroking her hair as she wept out of anxiety.

"I'm sure everything is fine, Beans, it's just a little late off the mark, that's all..."

Beans only shook her head, rubbing her eyes frantically. They were red when she looked at him again. He swallowed, a little afraid to look his in the eye.

"I did everything right. I sat with them, stroked them, talked to them, and kept them warm – WHY ISN'T IT DOING ANY-?" she cried, before her haunted look froze before his eyes; leaving the question hanging in the air. Rango waved his hand in front of her eyes, before letting out a deep sigh. The egg hadn't moved an inch, and the silence soon became a sort of condemning gesture. Perhaps there was nothing inside. Perhaps it had died, after struggling to escape.

What if it had been trying for ages to escape and nobody heard it trying? What if it was too weak?

Now curious, Rango bent over the egg, inspecting it closely. Gently, he put his hand on the side of the egg, in the hope that he would feel movement. A moment passed... several more seconds... nothing. Trying a new tactic, he put his ear to the surface. Behind him, Beans unfroze.

"—THING? Wait, what are you-?"

"Shh! I'm just trying something." he whispered, listening closely with bated breath.

If Rango had ever listened to the inside of a seashell, it would be likely that he would compare the noise inside to this. There was some noise, not one that he could describe accurately, but a noise of life. Suddenly, there was a noise like a heartbeat. _Thump-a-thump-a. Tap-thump. Thump-a-thump-a._ The life inside was still living! He grinned, relief washing over him like warm water.

"Hi there... I'll get you out, promise." he murmured to the egg, before sitting up again.

"I need a spoon." he announced to Beans. She looked horrified at the notion.

"A spoon? What are you implyin'? You're gonna eat our dead baby?"

"What? No! It's still alive – it can't break the shell, see, I'm gonna help it out." he explained, before rising to fetch the spoon himself. Beans remained where she was, bewildered. She was still sitting in the same position when she returned, though Bobbie had begun to make some noises of indignation. Clearly falling into step with his new role, Rango bent to stroke the boy's face, before kneeling over the egg.

"Honey, go see to the boys." he requested gently to Beans, who obliged in a way that suggested that she wanted no part of his bizarre plans. He glanced one last time at the other members of his family, before facing the egg. Kissing it for good luck, he readied the spoon, just above the shell. Using the back of the bowl of the spoon, rather than the sharper edge, he tapped it once, twice, three times. A clear crack formed – deep enough for him the begin peeling back the shell. The insistent tapping became louder, more frenzied.

"Now hang on there just a minute, kiddo." he smiled, pulling back the first tiny bit of shell. A hole was made. Beans appeared suddenly at his side, peering at the egg anxiously. Rango grinned at her, before pulling larger pieces of shell away. Piece by piece, the third hatchling emerged, feebly waving its tiny arms about.

"A girl..." Beans whispered, leaning into Rango affectionately.

They sat by the fireplace. The boys rested comfortably in the makeshift cradle next to Beans, who watched over them carefully and adoringly. Rango sat with the baby girl in the armchair. She was most definitely her mother's daughter; with large eyes and a light brown complexion. Perhaps the only indication that Rango was her father was the yellow irises circling the pupils in her eyes, which gazed vaguely at him. He gently ran his finger over the small tuft of brown hair on her head, mesmerised by her tiny face and hands. He could see so much of his beloved in her...

"You look just like your mother, don't you, Gussie?" he asked quietly. Beans looked up.

"What'd you call her?" she asked, rising to sit on the tall footstool in front of the armchair. Rango remembered everything he had thought about earlier that day, cringing.

"I...called her Gussie." he admitted nervously. Beans tilted her head.

"Pretty name. Where'd you get it from?"

"I... uh... it's short for Asparagus."

Beans stared wordlessly, her expression emotionless. Suddenly, recognition flashed in her eyes.

"You just plum-love asparagus, don't you?" she stated, smiling. Relieved, Rango nodded.


End file.
